


Suburbia

by ohthislove



Category: Resident Evil (Movieverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Violence, Breeding, Choking, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Memory Alteration, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Smut, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22439827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthislove/pseuds/ohthislove
Summary: You have the seemingly perfect life, with the perfect house and the perfect husband. But the illusion threatens to be unraveled when you start to have strange but familiar nightmares.
Relationships: Albert Wesker/Reader, Albert Wesker/You
Comments: 43
Kudos: 281





	1. Good Morning

Running.

You were running through what looked like a metropolis, with towering buildings and flashy, neon billboards. On your heels were snarling, animalistic creatures, barely human, not quite alive and not quite dead. They were smeared with blood, their flesh gray and rotting, their eyes blank and void of light, their insides exposed.

One of them grabbed onto you, tearing the fabric of your shirt. It reared its head back, preparing to sink its teeth into your skin, but before it got the chance to, you expertly chopped it in the throat. You landed a solid kick to its gut, and it knocked backwards into more of its kind, nothing but a beaten, bloody pulp.

You turned back around and headed toward a rectangular shaped, white light. Your boots slapped against the pavement, and your rapid heartbeat pounded in your ears. Just as you came within arms reach of the light, everything faded to black.

-

You jolted awake and sat up straight in bed. Your chest heaved with every sharp intake of breath, and you were drenched in sweat. You dug your nails into the sheets and pushed your matted hair out of your face.

A hand grabbed your shoulder, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. "Hey, relax." A deep voice chuckled beside you. You looked over to see your husband laying next to you and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's wrong?"

You released a sigh of relief, and your shoulders slumped. "I had the nightmare again." You laid back down and curled into him. "It felt so real."

"Shhh," he shushed you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. "You need to stop watching scary movies late at night." He ran his fingers through your hair soothingly, and his touch further put you at ease.

You snuggled up to him and allowed the warmth of his body and his natural scent to comfort you. You looked at the window behind him. The curtains were drawn, and the early light of the morning peeked in through the blinds. "I'm sorry I woke you up," you murmured against his chest.

"It's okay," he whispered, his voice still gruff with sleep.

Your eyes fluttered closed. "If you go to sleep now, you can still get a few hours of shut eye before you have to get up for work."

He hummed. "Or we could find another way to spend the time."

He moved on top of you, rolling you onto your back and covering you with his large frame. A giggle escaped your throat. "Albert, what's gotten into you lately?" It seemed every free chance he got, he was humping your leg like a dog in heat.

"What?" He bent down and kissed your neck. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your skin. "I can't show my wife how much I love her?"

You bit back a moan that threatened to escape and bucked your hips against his. "Well, I guess there's nothing wrong with that," you teased.

His hand snaked down your abdomen and stopped right above where you needed him most. "So impatient," he taunted. He cupped your sex over your panties with his large hand. You sucked in a breath as he pressed his finger against your clit. He traced soft circles with his finger, and you could no longer hold back your needy mewls.

"Do you want more?" he whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your face. "Or do you want to keep complaining?"

You stared up at him with pleading eyes and frantically shook your head. "M-More," you begged, your voice weak with pleasure, "more, please."

He grinned and slipped his hand beneath your panties. He slowly pushed his thick finger inside of you. You squeaked, and he pumped it in and out of you. You spread your legs wider as an indication to continue. He slipped in another finger and curled them, hitting that delicious spot inside of you that drove you wild. You knew you would need the preparation for when he would eventually take you.

He removed his fingers from you, and you whined in dissatisfaction. He chuckled. "Don't worry, sweetheart. There's a lot more where that came from."

He shoved his boxers down to his knees, and you got a good look at just what he meant. He hooked his finger in your panties and pulled them to the side. He slipped the head of his cock between your folds, gathering your wetness. He moved down to your entrance and started to press into you. You threw your head back against your pillow and arched your back off of the bed. He fully sheathed himself inside of you, his pelvis flush with yours.

"Fuck, so tight," he groaned. "So good."

He pulled back until only the tip of his cock was still inside you. Then, he slammed back into you. You jolted forward on the bed, and the mattress squeaked under you. You clung to his shoulders as he rocked in and out of you. He filled you up perfectly, his cock rubbing that special spot inside of you just right. You couldn't help the eager moans that fell from your lips, and your sounds of pleasure mingled in the air with the squelch of your pussy each time he thrust into you.

He leaned forward on his elbows, his bare chest pressed against yours. "Beautiful." He pushed your hair out of your face. "Gorgeous."

He circled your clit, and you could feel your release nearing. "Albert," you moaned.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He quickened his pace and increased the pressure on your clit. "I want to feel you cum around me."

You buried your nails into his back as you reached your peak, leaving red, crescent moon marks in his skin. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as you rode out your high, drawing him to his climax. His hips stilled as warmth flooded inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck. Your chests rose and fell in tandem as you drew in ragged breaths, and both of your bodies were slick with sweat.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. "Well, that's one way to say good morning." You laughed, breathless.

He nuzzled your neck. "And one hell of a good morning it is."

-

You ironed Albert's tie while he was in the shower. He came out fully dressed, fixing the collar of his button-up shirt. You set your iron down and picked up the freshly pressed tie. "I ironed your tie." You presented it to him proudly.

He smiled and took it from you. "Thanks, honey." He draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him to peck your forehead. "Be good while I'm at work, okay?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "You say that like I'm not always."

"I know, I know." He pulled away and started putting on his tie. "Don't forget to eat a good lunch and do your chores."

"Like I do everyday," you commented.

"I'm just looking out for you." He framed your face with his hands. "Don't do anything taxing, okay?"

"Okay." You covered his hands with yours. "I love you."

He stared down at you like he was drinking you in, his eyes full of adoration. "I love you too."

He grabbed his briefcase before leaving. A few moments later, you heard the sound of the garage door and the car engine rev. It faded away as he drove down the street.

You changed out of your robe into one of the many dresses hanging in your closet and got started on your day. You were downstairs in the living room dusting the bookshelf when something outside caught your eye. The window gave a perfect view of the house across the street, and you could make out two women sitting on the porch. You furrowed your brow. You didn't recognize either of them. They must have been new.

You put your duster down and eyed the front door. It wasn't like Albert had expressly forbidden you from going outside, but you couldn't remember the last you had left the house. You reached behind you and untied the apron you had put on, slipping it off and draping it on the back of the couch. You had already gotten a good start on your housework, and Albert still wasn't due home for some time. You could afford to take a short break to say hi.

You undid the lock and turned the knob. You pulled the door open and stepped outside. You lifted your face to the sky and closed your eyes, basking in the sun warming your skin. It was a beautiful day out. There was hardly a cloud in the azure blue sky, and sun shone bright overhead. You took a moment to look around. The street you lived on seemed to stretch on forever in each direction, house after house with the same white, picket fence and manicured lawn as far as the eye could see. It looked picture perfect, like it belonged on a post card. Almost artificial.

You looked both ways before crossing the street. You walked up the paved pathway to the porch the two women were sitting on, and their chatter ceased as they noticed you approaching them.

You beamed at them. "Hello. I'm (Y/N) Wesker. I live across the street." You jabbed a thumb behind you at your identical-looking house. "What are your names?"

A woman with long, brown hair that flowed down her shoulders and bangs introduced herself first. "My name is Alice," she said in a low, smooth voice. She was dressed in a pink flannel and jeans.

"And I'm Rain," the other woman said. She had dark hair and caramel-colored skin.

"It's nice to meet you both." You folded your hands in front of you. "Are you new to the neighborhood?"

"No, I'm not." Alice shook her head. "At least, I don't think so. I think I've lived here for a while."

"And I live a couple houses down the block," Rain added.

Alice smiled warmly at you. "Please, sit down." She gestured to the last empty chair. "Come join us. We were just making small talk."

"Thank you." You sat down next to her. You crossed your legs and smoothed out the fabric of your skirt with your hands.

Rain picked up a pitcher off of a side table. "Would you like some iced tea?" she offered.

You nodded. "Yes, please. That would be very nice of you."

She set the pitcher down and stood up. "I'll go get you a glass. Be right back." She disappeared inside the house.

You turned to Alice. "So, Alice, do you have a family?"

"Yes, my husband Todd and my daughter Becky. What about you?"

"Oh, it's just me and my husband Albert." You shifted in your chair closer to her. "What does your husband do for work?"

Her face twisted up with confusion. "I'm not sure. I can't remember."

You didn't get long to contemplate her answer before Rain returned. "I'm back." She raised the glass in her hand triumphantly. "Alice, someone wanted to come say hi to you."

A girl who appeared to be around eight or ten years old peeked out from behind Rain's legs. Her long, blonde, curly hair flowed behind her as she ran to Alice. "Mama!" she cried, signing with her hands as she did so.

"Hi, Becky." Alice signed back. You assumed her daughter was deaf. She scooped Becky up in her arms and placed her on her lap. She looked at you with her piercing, blue eyes. "Becky, this is our neighbor from across the street, (Y/N) Wesker."

"Hello," you greeted with a wide smile.

Becky waved back timidly before throwing her arms around her mother's neck and hiding her face. Alice laughed and returned her embrace. Rain reoccupied her previous seat and poured you a glass of iced tea from the pitcher. She held it out to you.

"Thank you." You took it from her. "So, where are you originally from, Alice?"

She screwed up her face in concentration again, like she was thinking really hard. "I don't know. Here, maybe. It's hard to remember anywhere else but this."

You let out a forced, awkward giggle. "What do you mean?" You tilted your head. "You can't remember where you're from?"

"Well, do you know what your husband does for a living?" she retorted.

"He works in computer programming, I think." You blinked. _Or was it software development? Why couldn't you remember?_

"What company does he work for?" she further questioned you.

You furrowed your brow. "I-"

"And where are you from? How long have you lived here?" she continued to press you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to draw up a memory of your childhood, your family, anything, but all you could remember was living day after day in that house with Albert, cooking and cleaning and making love to him. You opened your eyes, and the corners of your lips twisted into a frown.

"You can't answer," Rain stated for you, "because you don't know."

"It's the way things are around here." Alice shrugged, rocking her daughter back and forth. "There are some things we just can't remember."

You heard the rattle of ice against glass and looked down to see your hand shaking. You slowly lifted the glass to your lips and took a heavy drink, regaining your composure. You set it down on the side table and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

The rev of a car engine drew your attention, and you looked out to see a car speeding down the street. You realized it was Albert's car. He was driving impossibly fast, like he was in a rush. He didn't bother to pull into the driveway, opting instead to park at the curb in front of your house. He hopped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him with a resounding bang. He charged towards you with urgency in his step.

"(Y/N)!" he shouted. His face was a stoic mask, and his loafers crunched the freshly mowed grass underneath his feet.

You recognized the authority in his tone and rose from your chair, wobbling in your heels. Your pulse started to race and your heart beat against your ribcage the closer he got to you.

He stomped onto the porch and reached for you. His fingers latched onto your arm and dragged you away from them, not caring how you tripped down the front steps and nearly fell flat on your face. You craned your neck to look over your shoulder. Rain and Alice were staring at you with expressions a cross between shock and confusion.

"I have to go now!" You forced a smile, trying to save face. "It was nice talking to you both!"

Your toes barely touched the ground as Albert hauled you across the street. He wrenched open the front door and tossed you inside. You barely managed to keep your balance and stumbled over to the couch, grabbing on to the back of it for support.

You turned around to face him. "Albert, what's wrong?"

He got in your face. "Why were you talking to them?" he shouted, spit flying. Every muscle in his body was tense, like he was in attack mode.

"I-I saw them across the street, and I thought they were new." You had never seen him so angry before. Smoke was practically fuming out of his ears. "I thought I should be polite and say hi. I was only going to talk to them for a second." You cowered in fear and shrunk in on yourself. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

You waited for something to happen - what, you didn't know - but it never came. You peered up at him as his expression softened. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a sigh. "It's okay. You were just trying to be a good neighbor." It sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself than you. He gently placed his hand under your chin and tilted your face up until you were forced to meet his eyes. "Just don't talk to them ever again, okay? You're not allowed to."

You nodded fervently. You wanted to ask him why, but his random fit of anger made you think twice about questioning him. He let go of you and backed away. He spotted the duster resting atop the bookshelf. He picked it up and held it out to you. You eyed him for a second before hesitantly reaching out and taking it from him.

"Finish up," he told you. "You did promise to be good while I was gone, after all."


	2. Too Good to be True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please take a look at the updated tags before reading. thanks :)

Albert decided to leave work early and work from home for the rest of the day in order to watch over you. That’s what he had told you, anyway. You finished putting away the clothes you had folded in the bedroom and walked out into the hall. One door you knew led to Albert’s office; you weren’t ever allowed in there. But the door across from it, you didn’t recognize. You tilted your head to the side. You couldn’t remember ever seeing what was behind it.

You eyed the top of the stairs and listened intently. You could hear him walking around downstairs, his heavy footsteps causing the floorboards to creak. Part of yourself knew you had probably gotten into enough trouble for the day, but the other part rationalized that this was your house too, not just Albert’s, and you had the right to go peeking around it as much as you liked.

You carefully crept over to where the mysterious door was. You held your breath as you tentatively reached out your hand. You wrapped your fingers around the brass doorknob. You waited a beat for any indication he had caught on to what you were doing, but you didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. As slowly as you possibly could, you turned the doorknob. It didn’t budge. You furrowed your brow and tried again. Still, the result was the same.

Resigning, you called out, “Albert, honey, what’s this door up here?”

“What?” you heard him yell back. You listened to the thud of his feet as he clambered up the stairs, and he appeared on the landing, his hand on the railing. “What are you talking about?”

“This door,” you gestured to it, “what’s it lead to?”

He walked over to you. “Oh, that’s nothing, sweetheart. It’s just the spare room. Don’t worry about it.”

You stared up at him. “Why’s it locked?”

“Well, I’m doing renovations in there. There’s all sorts of power tools and dangerous stuff in there. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Why don’t you start on dinner, little bird? I got you stuff to make your favorite - vegetable stew.”

You nodded and smiled at him. “Okay.”

He smiled back and leaned down to peck your lips. “I’ll be working on some stuff in my office. If you need me, just knock.”

He retreated to his office and slipped inside without a sound. You went downstairs to the kitchen and put on your apron, shaking your head as you tied it behind you. It was almost like you were hoping to unravel some big conspiracy. You were too lucky; sometimes, your life felt just too good to be true.

As you started on dinner, you were chopping up vegetables when your hand slipped and you accidentally cut your finger. A sharp sting spread throughout your hand, and you let out a high-pitched yelp. You clutched your finger in your other hand, feeling your pulse race in the veins by your wrist.

“Honey, is everything okay down there?” Albert shouted from upstairs.

You slowly uncurled your hand to reveal your finger, but it was unscathed. No cut, no incision. Just smooth, soft flesh. The only evidence there had been any damage done at all was a drop of ruby red blood on the cutting board.

“Everything’s fine!” you called back.

You grabbed a paper towel and wiped away the blood, willing yourself to forget about it. You occupied your mind with cooking, and once everything was in the pot on the stove stewing, you moved on to cleaning up. You grabbed the knife to wash it, and your thoughts once again strayed to your finger, how the injury you had caused vanished into thin air without a trace.

Without thinking, you positioned your hand on the edge of the sink with your fingers dangling over the basin and held the knife above in your dominant hand. You stared down at your fingers like you were possessed, almost like you were outside yourself watching all this occur while having no way to prevent it from happening. You adjusted the handle of the knife in your grip, and before you could change your mind, brought your hand down.

Hot, white pain shot throughout your entire arm as you cut clean through the bone. Two of your fingers fell into the sink, blood spilling out of wounds you had created. You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from shrieking, so hard that you split your skin open, and the copper taste of blood flooded your mouth. Fuzzy, gray dots formed over your vision, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you doubled over, your grip on the knife in your unharmed hand tightening until your knuckles turned white.

Suddenly, the pain subsided, and you straightened up. You forced your eyes open and stared down at the bloody stubs where your fingers had been moments ago. The blood stopped, and you watched in awe as new bone started to sprout up, followed by tendons, then veins and sinews and tissues and muscles and skin. It was like your cells were regenerating all on their own.

You were healing.

And then your fingers were there again. You raised your hand closer to your face and inspected them closely. You flexed and stretched your fingers. It was as if nothing had happened. The only thing out of the ordinary was that they weren’t painted with the same red polish as your others. ”What the fuck?” you muttered under your breath.

“Is dinner ready?”

The knife slipped from your hand and landed in the sink with a loud, metallic clatter, knocking your discarded fingers into the garbage disposal. You whirled around to see Albert standing behind you. When he noticed your shocked expression, his face fell.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You plastered a smile on your face and shook your head. “Nothing, honey. Almost dropped my ring in the sink while I was washing up. That’s all.” You fidgeted with the diamond ring on your left hand as you spoke.

He gave you another once over before the tension visibly left his shoulders. “Be careful. That ring cost a lot of money. I wouldn’t want you losing it.”

“Of course not.” You grabbed a hand towel and wiped your hands clean. “Dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you go wait in the dining room?”

“Okay,” he agreed. He flashed you a quizzical expression before turning and leaving the kitchen.

Once you were sure he was gone, you spun around and washed the blood down the drain. You finished stacking the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and served two bowls of stew. You picked them up and piled them in your arms. Before you left the kitchen, you made sure to flip the switch and turn on the garbage disposal.

Albert was sitting at the head of the table when you entered the dining room. You set the table with silverware and placed one of the bowls in front of him and the other in front of the seat beside him. You pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.

“It smells delicious,” he commented, laying his napkin in his lap.

“Thank you.” You picked up your spoon and fiddled with it in your hand. “How was work?”

“Good for the few hours I was there,” he said as he ate. “How was your day?”

“Fine. As always.” You poked at your food and pressed your lips into a straight line. “Albert... where am I from?”

He looked up at you. “What do you mean?”

“Where did I grow up? Who were my parents?” Every time you tried to recall the lost memories, it was like your head filled with tv static and a loud, persistent buzzing rang in your ears. You blinked and shook away the feeling. “Why can’t I remember?”

He sighed. “Does this have something to do with those two women across the street?”

“They don’t have any memories from before this place, and neither do I,” you pointed out.

“Does it matter? Why is it so important that you have memories of life before me?” He frowned. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“What? No!” You covered his hand that was resting on the table with your own and rubbed circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. “Of course you are. But what if this has to do with the nightmare I keep having? What if my subconscious is trying to show me something I don’t remember?”

His frown turned mean, and he recoiled his hand. “Your nightmare is just that - a nightmare.”

“But it feels so real!” you insisted. “And it keeps happening, over and over, night after night. It never goes away.”

“Do you hear yourself? You sound delusional,” he hissed. “Unless there’s something else you’re not telling me, I don’t know why you have any reason to believe your dreams are real.”

You considered telling him about your hand for a second, but held your tongue. Something was definitely wrong here - you had gotten confirmation of that. What had happened in the kitchen was unnatural, and as much as you loved your husband, you felt like he was keeping something from you. You decided it was better to keep your new knowledge to yourself for now.

“No. Nothing. It’s just the nightmare.” You stared down at your now cold bowl of stew. “You’re right. I’m overthinking it.”

He smiled at you and gently caressed your face. “Hey. It’s okay.” He laughed lightly and pinched your cheek. “You need to stop driving yourself crazy. You’re getting all worked up for no reason.” He retracted his hand and stood up. “Let me go get you your pill.”

“Oh, yes. I nearly forgot.” You chuckled. You had been on the pill for months now. He left and returned with a circular white pill, tiny in the palm of his large hand. He handed it to you, and you leaned your head back as you popped it in your mouth. You swallowed it whole and chased it with a swig of water.

You ate the rest of dinner in relative silence, making small talk now and then between bites about the weather or something else inconsequential. You subtly felt the temperature begin to rise around you. Your forehead broke out in a sweat, and your cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink. When you both finished eating, you stood up and cleared the table. During your trips between the dining room and the kitchen, you felt a tickle in your nether regions that steadily grew to a full on itch. You tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't go away, desperately calling your attention to its presence. You did your best to conceal the way you rubbed your thighs together as you walked in an attempt to relieve some of the tension, but your efforts were to no avail.

Albert leaned back in his seat and watched you with amusement. The legs of his chair scratched against the floor as he rose to his feet. He walked around the table to stand behind you. You were too focused on the fire in your loins to notice him at first. You leaned forward to reach for your glass of water on the table and squeaked when his hands gripped your waist.

"Albert, wh-what are you doing?" you stammered out.

You froze as he pressed himself against you. You could feel his erection straining against the confines of his pants poke against your ass. "You look like you need something, little bird,” he huskily whispered in your ear. "I'm giving you what you need."

His hands ran up your body to grope your tits, emitting a quick yelp from you. The smell of his cologne and his aftershave and his natural, heady scent mingled together and filled your senses. The warmth radiating off of his body overwhelmed you, and your blood rushed through your veins as your arousal took over you. It took every fibre of your being to keep from ripping your clothes off and pouncing on him like a wild animal.

He smirked and pushed you so you bent over the table. Blush crept up your neck to your cheeks and ears. “Albert, here?” you asked shyly. “Why not?” He hiked up the skirt of your dress above your hips, exposing your lacy panties to him. He gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him, grinding his pelvis against your clothed core. “I can feel how badly you need me.” He slipped his fingers under your panties and ran them through your folds. “You’re soaking wet already.”

You whined with need and bucked your hips against his hand subconsciously. You didn’t know what had come over you. He hooked his thumbs in the elastic band of your underwear. “Don’t worry. I’m going to give it to you, little bird.” He dragged your panties down to your ankles.

He rose to his full height. You heard the metallic clink of his belt buckle as he undid it and dragged his zipper down. There was a whoosh of fabric as he shed his pants and boxers, and then his tip was pressed against your entrance. He held your hips in a bruising grip as he pushed into you.

You clawed at the table as your walls stretched to accommodate him. He sank in to the hilt and pulled his hips back, setting a breakneck pace. He repeatedly rammed into you, the table creaking beneath you as you jolted forward. You were sure the wood grain pattern would be imprinted on your smushed cheek by the time you were done.

“God, you feel so fucking good.” He threaded his fingers through your hair and jerked your head back. “So fucking tight around me.”

He grunted as the head of his cock slammed into your cervix over and over again. He had never been so rough with you before, and yet your body responded to him so intensely. You panted with every thrust and rocked your hips back against him eagerly. You couldn’t get enough of him.

The glass of water on the table tipped over from the velocity of his thrusts. The water splashed onto the floor, and the glass shattered into a million shards. Both of you were too engrossed in each other to care. He reached around to run circles on your clit, drawing you closer to your climax. “Tell me you need me,” he demanded. “I want to hear you say it.”

He dug his fingers into your skin and increased his speed. You were going crazy. Every cell and bone in your body ached for him, craved for the release only he could give you. “I need you!” you mewled pathetically. “Please, Albert, I need you!”

“Yes,” he growled. "Good girl." His low groans and the slap of flesh against flesh filled your ears. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your orgasm washed over you. Your thighs quivered and shook around him, your pussy clenching around his cock. You went limp, his hand on your hip the only thing keeping you up.

He let go of his grasp on your hair, and your upper half collapsed on the table. He didn’t stop his assault on your sensitive pussy as he neared his end. “I’m going to fill you up.” He leaned forward until his chest was pressed against your back and sunk his teeth into the smooth skin of your collarbone. You barely felt the pain through your haze.

His thrusts grew sloppy, and he spilled into you. He pumped in and out a couple more times, making sure you milked him of all he had, before pulling out. You felt his warm cum dribble out of you and smear down your thighs. He collected it with his fingers and pushed it back inside of you before pulling your panties up.

You pressed your palms flat against the table and slowly pushed yourself up. You wavered on your heels and leaned back against the edge of the table. Every muscle in your body felt sore, and you knew you would have a hard time walking tomorrow. Albert pulled up his pants and zipped up his fly in front of you. You brushed your fingers against your collarbone and, sure enough, the bite marks were gone, unmarred skin left in its place.

The air left your lungs as Albert wrapped his digits around your wrist and brought your hand to his face. He examined your two recently formed fingers barren of nail polish. His steely gaze met yours. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and for a second, you were convinced he had found you out.

Then, his face broke out into a genuine smile. “Need a new manicure, don’t you, dear?” He leaned forward and gave your lips a searing, lingering kiss. He pulled away and smacked your ass, causing you to yipe. “Wash up, sweetheart. I think it's time we went to bed.” He gestured to the puddle of water and heap of broken glass on the floor. "And don't forget to clean up the mess you made."


	3. Playing Games

You were running again.

The undead creatures were hot on your trail, hissing and snarling and growling like animals. The same one lunged at you again, but you easily evaded its attack and threw it backwards as if it was second nature for you. You sprinted towards the bright light in front of you, glowing like the light at the end of the tunnel. You kept your focus straight ahead, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You expected the dream to end as you drew closer, but it continued on. You stepped into the light, and the doors slid closed behind you with a mechanical whoosh, locking the monsters out on the other side. You doubled over with your hands on your knees, desperately trying to catch your breath. When you stood up, you saw that you were in a completely white hallway that seemed to stretch on and on forever in front of you.

Next thing you knew, men in white lab coats were on you in a second, poking and prodding at you with advanced technological devices. “Sir, subject 107 has completed the test.”

You heard the thud of solid boots and looked up as another man entered your field of vision. His broad shoulders and large, well-built frame intimidated you. He stood out in the white hallway clad in all black. A pair of dark sunglasses concealed his eyes, but besides that, his face was a blur. Whoever he was, he exuded an air of smug confidence and authority.

“By running away like a coward,” the man said. His voice was low and gruff.

“I’m done playing your game.” You barely recognized the voice as your own, bitter with a hardened edge to it. It felt like the words weren’t coming from you at all.

The man laughed, sending chills down your spine that made you visibly shiver. “You’re not done until I say you are.” He turned his back on you. “Take her back to her holding cell.”

Two of the lab coats grabbed onto each of your arms and started dragging you away. You grit your teeth and jerked against their hands on you. You shook one of them off, sending him flying into the wall. He hit it with a resounding bang, his neck breaking with an audible snap. You kicked the other one in the chest, knocking him back against the wall. He slid down it and crumpled into a lifeless heap.

Once freed, you barred your teeth and ran at the man in black. You jumped on his back and started scratching at him with all your might. He reached behind him without looking, and you felt a sharp prick in your neck as he stabbed you with a needle. Almost immediately, all the strength left your limbs. You slipped off his back and landed onto the floor.

Your vision grew fuzzier, and the world swirled around you in a blur of black and white. The last thing you saw was the man in black leaning over you. “We’re going to have so much fun together, you and I,” he whispered before everything faded to black.

-

You gasped as you sat up straight in bed. You clutched your chest as you hyperventilated. Your hand absentmindedly fluttered to your neck where you had been injected in the nightmare. You felt like you could still feel the sharp sting as the needle entered your flesh.

There was a shift in weight on the bed beside you, and the covers rustled as they were drawn back. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Your husband’s arms wrapped around you and pulled you back against his chest. When you still didn’t respond, he cupped your face in his hands and forced you to look at him. “Sweetie, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

You stared into his eyes. They were so full of caring and concern. “I... I had another nightmare,” you stuttered. “But this time, it was different.”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“After running away from the creatures, I was in this hallway.” You took a pause to suck in a breath. “There were these scientists, and this man. I couldn’t see his face, but he was dressed in all black.” You felt tears well in your eyes as the nightmare came back to you in full detail. “I think they were experimenting on me.”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he spoke soothingly. He carded a hand through your hair and rocked you back and forth. “It was just a dream. It’s not real.”

“But it felt real.” You pushed away from him. “These aren’t nightmares. They’re real things that happened to me, I know it. I don’t know why I can’t remember, but I think talking to Alice and Rain yesterday unlocked something in my memory,” you urged. “I know how this sounds, but you have to believe me.”

“No, I don’t think you do know how this sounds,” Albert sneered at you. He stood up, towering over you. “Don’t you realize how crazy you’re acting? Undead monsters? Experimental tests?” he said incredulously. “You’re letting your imagination run rampant. They’re just dreams - nothing more, nothing less." He shook his head at you disapprovingly. "I don’t know who you are, but you’re not acting like the woman I married right now.”

You felt your heart sink in your chest. Hearing it all out loud did make you realize how absurd you sounded. “Albert, I’m sorry.”

“I have to get ready for work.” He turned his back on you and walked into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut, shrouding you in darkness.

-

You listened to him clomp around behind you, from the bedroom to his office to the bedroom again as you painted your nails red in the bathroom. Finally, he stopped his clomping and appeared behind you in the mirror wearing a wide grin.

“I’m heading off to work now.” He placed a hand on your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. “Be a good girl for me while I’m gone, okay?”

You smiled back at him. “I always am.”

His smile only grew. “I know.” He gave your shoulder a gentle pat before leaving, briefcase in hand. The smile slipped from your face the second he was out of sight.

You finished painting your nails and heard the muffled rev of a car engine starting up. The garage door opened and closed, and the noise of the engine faded down the street. You capped the nail polish and gripped the edge of the sink until your knuckles turned white.

You stared at your reflection so hard you thought you would burn a hole through your mirror image. You let your gaze rake over your hair, your facial features, the flimsy nightgown covering your body, the flawless skin of your collarbone where there should be puncture wounds. You looked back up at your eyes. They seemed dark and void of light. Was there even anything behind them? Did you have a soul? Or was none of these real? Was this all some illusion, some fantasy you concocted for yourself that you only woke from when you were sleeping? You swore the mirror would shatter under the heavy weight of your contemplative gaze.

You pushed off of the sink. You had made up your mind. You wanted answers.

You walked out into the hall to the mystery door. Without hesitation, you jiggled the doorknob. It was still locked. Growing frustrated, you cried out and kicked at it. You stared in shock as the force of your kick broke the lock, and the door swung open on its hinges with ease. You leaned inside the dark room and felt along the wall for a light switch. You found it and flicked it on. You winced and blinked rapidly as your eyes adjusted to light flooding the room.

You didn’t know what you were expecting. Something sinister, maybe. But definitely not whatever this was.

You stepped inside. The walls were painted a pale yellow, and the carpeted floor was plush under your bare feet. You walked over to the solid, white dresser with a mirror above it. You reached out for one of the many plushies lined atop it and squished its soft center. Continuing your perusal of the room, there was a hamper in the corner and a bookshelf stocked full of books. You picked one up and flipped through it. They were all children’s books. You put it back and moved on. On the other side of the room was a toy box and a rocking chair next to a crib, and a changing station...

It was a nursery.

You didn’t know how to react. There was nothing overtly nefarious about the room. It was rather normal, and yet there was something off and fake about it that sent chills down your spine. What was inside this room didn’t give you any answers. If anything, it only raised more questions.

You left the room and walked across the hall to the door of Albert’s office. You tried it, and it was locked. You kicked it like you did with the other one, and it caved in. You walked inside and switched on the light, the lamp by his desk flickering to life.

His office was ordinary. There was a long bookshelf along one wall, and a large, oak desk on the other side. You ran over to it and practically ransacked it. You pulled out the drawers and dumped them onto the ground. You sifted through the piles of papers on his desk top, searching for something, anything, that would give you some clue as to what was going on. But all you found were work reports, transcripts from meetings, bills, receipts, budgets, grocery lists. You looked through the files on his computer. Surprisingly, it didn’t require a password to access. It was more of the same, excel sheets and emails between employees.

You sat back in the middle of the room surrounded by the mess you had made. Maybe you really were losing it. You were so sure something larger was at play here, and yet all you had found was a nursery and an office. Albert had probably just finished renovating the former and planned to surprised you, which was why he had kept it behind closed doors - literally. You must have hallucinated cutting off your fingers. All this time inside wasn’t doing you any good. Maybe when Albert got back, you would ask him to take you on vacation somewhere, get away from the hum drum of day to day life. Or maybe he had the right idea, and a baby would eat up more of your free time.

You rose from the ground with a sigh and started putting everything back in its rightful place. You were finishing shuffling the papers on his desk when your hand accidentally knocked over a bronze statue of a doberman pincher. A rumbling came from behind you, and you turned around to see the bookcase split in the middle and slide apart to reveal a hidden part of the room.

You slowly stalked forward. When you stepped inside, the room illuminated with a garish and fluorescent glow. It looked to be some sort of lab, tubes filled with electric green and blue liquid lining the white walls. You padded across the cold, tiled floors to a desk. Above it were several televisions displaying surveillance footage from multiple places inside your house - the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, and even the nursery.

On the desk were various manila folders marked confidential in big, red letters. Each one had a red and white insignia with ‘Umbrella Corp’ printed underneath. You spotted one labeled ‘Subject 107’ and flipped it open. Your eyes scanned over the words in neat, black typewriting font:

_”Subject 107, otherwise known as (Y/N) (Y/L/N), was successfully injected with the T-virus. Her cells bonded with the virus, granting her superhuman abilities such as advanced strength, speed, and regenerative healing. Unlike Project W, 107 does not require regulated doses of the anti-virus in order to keep her levels in check. Instead, her antibodies mutated of their own accord to balance out the amount of T-virus infecting her cells. It is not completely certain why this is, although test results show that her genetic DNA may be what makes her an ideal host for the T-virus.”_

You reread the paragraph over and over before closing the folder. You picked up another one and searched through its contents. There was a calendar that looked normal enough, but upon closer inspection, appeared to be keeping track of your menstrual cycle. You moved to the next file; it was a list of every meal you ate throughout the day. You came across a stack of printed out reports that documented your time in the house. You skimmed through them, a sentence or a note catching your attention every now and then:

_“Subject is responding well to the fertility treatment, however, still has not been able to conceive.”_

_“Subject has been describing reoccurring ‘nightmares’ that depict scenarios similar to tests she endured in the past. This could be a side effect of the memory erasure.”_

And, the most recent, written and printed out mere hours ago:

_“Subject’s nightmares have further developed. I believe this was caused by conversing with the Alice and Rain clones from yesterday. It seems her repressed memories are appearing in her dreams. If this continues and the subject becomes suspicious, we should consider enacting the contingency plan before the situation gets out of hand.”_

You dropped the folder on the desk as if it had burned you. You turned your attention to the computer. Unfortunately, this one did need a password to access it. You tried several phrases you had read in the files, such as ‘subject107’ or ‘projectw’ or ‘umbrellacorp,’ but none of them worked. You chewed on your bottom lip in thought as you blinked at the bright screen. The keys clacked under your fingers as you typed in ‘(y/n)(y/l/n)’ and hit enter.

It took a second before the computer loaded to a plain, red background. There were several folders scattered all across the desktop containing what you were sure were varying levels of important information. But one folder in particular called ‘Project Eden’ caught your eye. You clicked on it, bringing up several video files. You scrolled through them and chose one titled ‘Trial 017.’

The window popped up. You made it full screen and pressed play. It looked like footage from a security camera high up in the corner of a room. It was all white, the only furniture in the room a bed with a metal frame bolted down to the floor. You squinted at the screen. You could barely make out a figure in the bed, and your eyes widened in shock when you realized the figure was in fact you.

You were wearing a hospital gown, and your wrists and ankles were strapped down to the bed. You hardly recognized yourself. Your hair was matted and mussed, dark circles hung under your eyes, and reddish-purple bruises decorated your skin. The door to the room swung open, and four men in lab coats followed by the man in black stormed into the room.

“Hold her down,” the man in black boomed. Your heart stopped beating when you took in his facial features for the first time. Even with his sunglasses on, you knew who it was.

It was Albert.

The men grabbed onto your arms and legs as you started to thrash. Albert produced a syringe full of a clear liquid and held it up threateningly, the sharp point of the needle glinting in the light. “Hold still. This will only hurt a little bit.”

You reared back and spat in his face. “Fuck you, Wesker!”

He didn’t even flinch. He merely lifted his gloved hand and wiped away your spit in one swipe. “Struggling will only make this more painful for you, (Y/N).” His voice sounded so unfamiliar, so unlike him. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way.”

You sat up and bit into one of the men’s arm, ripping out a chunk of flesh with nothing but your teeth. He screamed and let go, clutching his wounded arm in horror as blood stained his white lab coat. You cried out in anguish as you broke free from your restraints. You leapt onto one of the men, snapping his neck with a twist of your hands. You released him, and his head hung limp at an unnatural angle.

Wesker sighed. “The hard way it is.”

He grabbed you by your collar and jerked you back against his chest. He snaked his arm around your waist as he injected you with the foreign substance. You grimaced and clawed at his grip on you helplessly. “Get out of here. Now,” he hissed at the men.

They instantly scurried away like rats towards the door, dragging the corpse of their colleague along with them. Once they were gone, he threw you on the ground and scrambled on top of you. “Get off of me!” you whined, but your defiance was weakening. “Get off...”

You tried to crawl away from him, but he pulled you back with ease. He flipped up your skirt, and you were disgusted to see that you were bare underneath the hospital gown. He unzipped his pants and took out his hardening cock. He held you in place as he gave himself a few strokes. He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed into you fully with one thrust.

You let out a high-pitched wail as he didn’t hold back, slamming into you at an inhuman pace. You fought back at first, but as time dragged on, you watched as your face contorted into an expression of pleasure. Your pained grunts morphed into moans, and you rocked your hips back against him desperately, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead.

Wesker chuckled darkly above you. “That’s right. Stop resisting and let go.” He wrapped his fingers around your neck. A strangled moan escaped your throat as he tightened his grip, your irises now mere rims around your blown out pupils. “I told you we would have fun together. We’re going to change the world.”

You hit pause on the video. You couldn’t handle seeing anymore. You inhaled a shaky breath. Memories came flooding back like a dam had broke in your brain, of you locked up in that room, no way of telling time, of scientists running experiments on you and treating you like a lab rat, of being subjected to tests with those horrid creatures, of Wesker torturing and abusing you relentlessly. You felt a drop hit your cheek, and you touched it with your finger. You hadn’t even comprehended the tears starting to leak from your eyes.

“So, you finally figured it out.”

You whirled around to see Wesker standing behind you. He looked exactly as he did in the video, as he had in your nightmare, dressed in all black leather with a pair of shades covering his eyes. You hadn’t even heard him pull into the garage or his usually heavy footsteps as he climbed the stairs.

“I have to say, I’m proud of you,” the corners of his lips curled into a sinister smirk, “but you just got yourself into a world of trouble.”


	4. Man in Black

“You've been a very bad girl while I was away.”

His heavy boot made a solid thud as he took a step towards you. “Don’t move!” you shouted, pressing yourself against the edge of the desk behind you as much as you could. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Or what? What are you going to do?” he chuckled, but didn’t move. “You wouldn’t want to do anything rash now, dear. You’ll over exert yourself-”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you cut him off through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is going on?” He didn’t say anything, merely stared at you. You felt like your blood was boiling in your veins. “Answer me!” You slammed your fist down on the desk, your voice bouncing off of the white walls. “I deserve answers!”

“Didn’t you find all your precious answers in those files?” He gestured to the manila folders scattered across the desk. It looked like a hurricane had blown through it. “I have to say, I’m surprised you caught on. But, you always were too smart for your own good.”

“Where are we?” you asked.

“We’re in an underground testing facility. Umbrella ran simulations here in order to sell the T-virus to government agencies worldwide,” he said. “Right now, we’re in a simulation of a suburban neighborhood. I thought it would be effective to replace your memory with artificial memories we concocted and place you here, that it would make you more compliant with the project.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, the memory erasure had some unforeseen side effects. Hence the nightmares.”

“So you were just going to treat me like a pet?” you spat. “You thought it was okay to keep me locked up in this cage and breed me like a dog? That you could turn me into your little trophy housewife, have me cook and clean for you with the wool pulled over my eyes and get away with it?”

“Cage?” He laughed as if you had meant what you had said to be amusing. “Look around you, (Y/N).” He spun around in a circle, his arms spread wide. “This is hardly a cage. I was going to let you live obliviously in domestic bliss. I was offering you another chance at a good life, the kind of life that’s been extinct since the world ended.”

“You’re the one who ripped that chance away from me, from everyone, in the first place!” You pointed your finger accusingly at him.

“You act like I’m some kind of monster.” He pressed his gloved hand to his chest in mock offense. “Tell me, was I ever mean to you? Did I ever hurt you? Didn’t I always keep you fed and happy and content? Was I ever anything but the nice, dutiful, caring husband to you?”

You shook your head. “None of that matters. I was living a lie.”

“You can choose to see it that way, if you wish,” he said. “I was doing you a favor, (Y/N). Things for you could’ve been much worse.” He gestured to the computer, the paused video still displayed on its screen. “Well, you’ve seen the footage.”

You glanced at the video over your shoulder before looking back at him. “Was any of it real?” Your mind conjured up memories of coffee dates, of fancy restaurant dinners, of him getting down on one knee and popping the question, of him kissing you on your wedding day as you stared at him. But they were all fake, artificial memories implanted into your brain. They were hazy and lackluster, but all the emotion was still there. And even with all this new information, that didn’t make it just disappear. “Was it all pretend?”

“You mean do I love you?” You stared down at your bare feet. The fact that part of you still hoped this man loved you revolted you to the core. “I have respect for you, (Y/N). Love is trivial in comparison. You are the future - the superior evolution of mankind. You are the only one worthy of carrying my child.” His words made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “With our combined genetics, we could improve upon the human race. Think of the things we could accomplish if we worked together.”

“I will never work with you.” You shook your head. “You just want to create monsters. You destroyed humanity out of greed. You kill people.”

He quirked a brow. “And you don’t?”

“I kill people because I have to,” you argued.

“You kill because it’s in your blood,” he said. “You see the weak and you eradicate them, making way for the exceptional species.”

“You’re sick,” you sneered. “You’re so obsessed with your perverted, demented version of saving the world, you don’t realize you’re ruining it. You don’t care about me or anyone else. You only care about yourself.”

He tutted disapprovingly. “Such harsh words, little bird.”

In an instant, you smacked his cheek with a resounding slap. His face fell to the side, his sunglasses sliding off his nose and breaking on impact with the tile. You could already see a red handprint spreading across his cheek. “Don’t call me that,” you hissed.

He looked back at you, and you gasped. His eyes - they were a bright, violent red. Every other time you had seen them, they were a clear, sky blue. But now, his pupils were black slits in the middle of each eyeball like a snake’s.

“You don’t want to do this, (Y/N),” he threatened. A golden tendril of hair had escaped his perfectly coiffed hairdo and now hung loose down his forehead. “We can forget this ever happened. We can go on living a perfect, normal life, and you can pretend like you’re none the wiser.”

“I would never agree to live in this house with you, Wesker.” You gripped the edge of the desk. You couldn’t trust him. The second you were no longer of use to him, he would throw you away like a worn-out toy.

“Then I will be forced to take you in. We’ll wipe your memory again and start fresh. And this time we’ll make sure to flesh out the details.” His lips curled into a sinister smirk. “Or maybe it’ll be back to the holding cell. Now why don’t you make it as easy as possible for yourself and come willingly?”

You readied yourself. “I’m not going down without a fight.”

He rose to his full height and cracked his knuckles. “Suit yourself.”

You threw a punch at him. He dodged your fist and latched onto your arm. He used your momentum against you and flipped you over his shoulder onto the metal table behind him. You slid off of it and landed on the ground, the wind knocked out of you.

He walked around the table and strode towards you effortlessly. Once he was within reach, you kicked at his kneecaps. He stumbled back, giving you enough time to leap to your feet. You swung at him again. He moved out of the way, but you learned from your mistake and brought your other hand up to connect with his jaw. He recovered quickly and pushed his heavy boot into your stomach.

You were knocked backwards, sending several test tubes crashing to the floor. You picked up a shard of a flask and stabbed it into his neck as he came towards you. He barely batted an eye. He plucked it out as if he was brushing off dust, unfazed by the blood dribbling out of the puncture wound in his neck.

He charged at you again, this time armed with the broken piece of glass. You ducked just in time as he thrust it at you, narrowly avoiding his hit. You retaliated with a blow to his side. He jabbed the glass into your hand as you did so. You let out a blood curdling scream as it sunk through your flesh. You gripped it and ripped it out with a yelp, discarding the fragmented pieces to the floor. You watched as the wound ceased leaking blood and closed itself up all on its own.

Wesker swiped at your ankles, and you dropped to the ground. You cried out as bits of glass scratched at and protruded from your skin. They crunched under his boots as he stopped in front of you. He buried a hand in your hair and dragged you off the floor. He hauled you off of the ground, your toes barely brushing the tile. You wrapped your hands around his in an attempt to lessen the pressure on your scalp and flailed your legs to kick at him desperately.

“Maybe we should have some fun first.” He pressed you back against the wall and slipped his hand under your nightgown. “One last go around for old times sake.”

His hand crept closer towards your clothed core, and you brought your leg up to knee him in the crotch. He let go of you with a grunt. You landed on your feet and regained your balance enough to kick him in the chest. He flew backwards, ending up on the other side of the room. You came at him with fists flying and teeth bared. You landed a few successful punches before he grabbed both your arms and pushed you back.

He wrapped his fingers around your throat and lifted you up. He slammed your back against the wall and tightened his hold on you. He stared at you with pure rage and fury in his glowing, red eyes. He squeezed until gray dots started to form over your vision, and you felt your lungs start to deflate as the oxygen left them.

“Just... do it...” you choked out.

His unwavering stare faltered, and his expression softened. His eyes faded to a warm amber, and the hard, straight line of his mouth twisted into a frown. He loosened his grip on you and slowly set you back down on the ground.

You spat out blood and looked up at him. “You do love me.” You flashed him a lopsided smirk.

He blinked, and his eyes turned red again. “Don’t be foolish,” he scoffed. “You’re more valuable to us alive.”

But something in the way he had looked at you told you otherwise. “Well, the only way you’ll take me in is if you kill me.”

You broke from his grip and roundhouse kicked him in the face. He staggered back, and you approached him again, fists raised. You threw a punch, but he caught your arm, twisting it. “Have you given up yet?” He threw you to the ground. His expression was stone cold and stoic. “We can do this forever, and you’ll never get anywhere.”

You slowly started to push yourself up again, but he stepped his boot-clad foot in the middle of your back, keeping you down. You knew you were both equally matched and could go at this for hours to no avail. But you also knew that he had a weakness you didn’t.

You spotted a green test tube that had rolled under the desk. You reached for it, stretching your arm as much as you possibly could. Your fingertips just barely brushed the glass. Wesker got out a syringe and uncapped it. He bent down so he was at your level as you got the tube within your grasp. Just as he was about to sedate you, you reached behind yourself and injected it into his neck before he could do anything.

He let out an angered growl and backed away from you. The syringe slipped from his grip and clattered to the ground. He grappled for the metal table to steady himself, pressing a hand against where you had injected him. He panted and fell to his knees, his skin turning sallow and pale as his T-virus levels fluctuated.

You rolled onto your back and noticed a handgun duct taped to the bottom of the desk. You tore it off and rose from the ground. You cocked the gun and aimed it at him.

He looked up at you and cracked a grin. “You won’t make it out of here alive. Even if you do, there’s nowhere to go.”

“It’s worth a shot,” you replied, and then you pulled the trigger.

The blast echoed as the gun went off. He looked down as blood seeped out of the bullet hole right where his heart was. He clutched his chest, blood running through the gaps in his fingers, and slumped back against the wall. His ragged breaths grew soft and shallow with each passing second. His arm dropped to his side, and his head lolled as he went silent.

You lowered the gun and stood still. Your heart pounding against your rib cage and your blood rushing in your veins were the only sounds in the now quiet room. You hesitantly padded across the tile towards him. You stopped right in front of him and poked at him with your toe. His body remained limp. His eyes were once again amber, blank and void with nothing behind them as he stared off into space. And this time he wouldn’t be getting up.

You felt something wet hit your cheek and swiped at it. You couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears from coming, and before you knew it, you were full on sobbing. You fell to your knees in front of him and lowered your head, clawing at your chest as if your heart wanted to burst out. You blamed it on the fake memories, that you were designed to react this way, but you knew deep down part of you had wanted to continue to live with him in ignorant bliss.

You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand. Your face was red and splotchy, your eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying. Your nightgown was tattered and practically hung off of your body in shreds. Every bone and muscle in your body ached. You imagined you resembled the way you had appeared in the video, tortured and battle-worn.

Suddenly, there was a sharp prick in your neck. You furrowed your brows as a buzzing filled your ears and something foreign pumped through your veins. The world spun around you, and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. You teetered forward and collapsed on top of Wesker’s cold, dead corpse. The position you were in allowed you to see behind you, and the last thing you saw were men wearing thick, plated armor and gas masks moving towards you with their guns raised before everything went black.

-

You slowly came to. You were lying on an examination table in a room with beige walls that smelled like bleach. You were wearing a hospital gown and hooked up to some sort of machine with a screen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard a voice whisper to you. You looked up to see a face hovering above you, and when you focused in on it, you recognized it as your husband’s. “You passed out once you got on the table. Don’t worry, the doc says it’s perfectly normal,” he placated you.

You looked down at your body and noticed something off: there was, barely perceivable but visible none the less, the start of a growing bump along your abdomen. You must be about two or three months along. No, in fact, you knew you were - you could remember the day you had told him about the two little lines that had shown up on the test and how he had smiled at you with all the love in the world.

“Congratulations, little bird. It’s a girl.” He placed a protective hand over your stomach. A wide grin spread across his face, bordering on wolfish. “The first of many.”


	5. Epilogue: Little Bird

"Update on Project Eden."

Wesker stared up at Dr. Isaacs's face on the large screen in front of him. He could see scientists in white lab coats urgently flitting back and forth in the high-tech underground Las Vegas lab behind him. He could even make out an unconscious Alice clone being held in its containment chamber in the background.

"Progress is coming along well. Subjects are already showing accelerated growth rates, including enhanced intelligence, strength, and speed at a young age," Wesker reported smoothly in an even tone, almost without thinking. He stood tall and rigid with his hands clasped behind his back like a sentinel.

"And when is the new subject predicted to arrive?"

The corners of his lips quirked into the smallest of smirks. "A few weeks from now at most."

"Good." Dr. Isaacs folded his hands on top of the desk he was sitting at. "You'll have your little army of super humans soon enough, although what you plan to do with them is beyond me."

His response was swift. "In case your experiments with the Alice clones fall through, they may be our last chance at coming out of hiding and reclaiming the world."

Dr. Isaacs pressed his lips together into a flat, thin line. "Well, you have fun with your lab rat, and I'll have fun with mine."

At the mention of _her_ , Wesker's heightened hearing zeroed in on the ticking of his watch. He glanced down at his wrist. "I am going to have to cut this meeting short. I have business to attend to."

He emitted a chortled snort from his throat. "Ah, yes, 'business.' I almost forget to ask how your little housewife was doing?"

Wesker fell silent, the only evidence that he had registered the doctor's words at all the small frown on his lips. He was thankful he had his shades on so he couldn't see the way his eyes burned a deep crimson.

When he didn't reply, Dr. Isaacs continued to goad him in a teasing tone, "In a rush to get home to the missus so soon?"

Wesker barely flinched. "Goodbye, Dr. Isaacs," he grunted before hitting end on the call.

The screen clicked off to black, and Wesker sharply exhaled the breath he had been holding in. He took off his glasses and ran a hand through his golden tresses. He began to undress and put back on the clothes he had left the house in that morning: slacks, a white button up, and a tie she had made for him for his so-called "birthday." Sewing was one of the many hobbies she had picked up in her free time in an attempt to keep herself occupied.

Wesker hesitated when he took his shirt off. His fingers subconsciously traced over the rough edges of the gnarled scar like a twisted knot in a tree trunk in the middle of his chest. It was a miracle the medical team was able to put him back together, although not without leaving a mark. They had to concoct a memory of them getting mugged in a back alley, Wesker jumping in front of her when she had refused to hand her purse over and getting shot in the process. He lied and told her the bullet had just barely missed his heart. Little did she know she had shot him dead on. He might not have taken a bullet _for her_ , but certainly one _from_ her.

He hadn't expected her to shoot him like that. He thought he knew her better than himself sometimes after all the years they've spent together. He didn't think she was capable of doing something like that, her actions catching him completely off guard. Maybe they were more alike than she would admit to herself.

He wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating her again.

Wesker gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands as he drove down the same, straight street he drove down everyday, his fingers digging a little too harshly into the leather. He passed by identical house after identical house with the same white, picket fences and green, manicured lawns. His foot stomped down on the gas pedal a little more, revving the engine and propelling the car just a little bit further. It probably wasn't safe to drive so fast in a suburban neighborhood, but any wreck he got into he could come out on the other side of without a scratch.

Still, the thought of being delayed from seeing her any longer was enough to ease his foot off the gas pedal.

Despite the identical facades, Wesker didn't have trouble picking out his house from the multitude. As he turned into the driveway, he spotted Alice and Rain (or clones of them, he should say) sitting on the porch of the house across the street watching the setting sun. Their eyes absentmindedly met his for a moment, and they quickly averted their gazes elsewhere, although probably not quite knowing why. He bristled and clenched his teeth as he shifted the car into park.

He shut off the engine and looked in the rearview mirror as he popped in his blue contacts. When he first started this whole charade, he hated wearing them, but he'd gotten used to them overtime. He grabbed his empty briefcase from the passenger seat and hopped out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him with a reverberated bang. He avoided Alice and Rain's curious, prying eyes as he made his way up the little path to the front door, probably looking a little too suspicious with the way he was walking so quickly. They seemed to be outside more and more these days. He would have to do something about that soon.

They were off his mind the second he unlocked the door and wrenched it open, the sound of childish voices hitting his ears.

"Daddy!" two high-pitched voices squealed in unison. A second later, two tiny blurs came barreling towards him at impossible speeds and latched onto his legs.

A chuckle tumbled from his lips as he looked down at the two heads of golden hair. He dropped his briefcase and scooped up his children effortlessly in his arms, pressing kisses to their faces round with baby fat. They giggled and squirmed in his hold. "How are my two favorite kids?"

"They didn't stop asking about you all day long."

His head snapped forward to make eye contact with her. She was standing at the edge of the foyer, a bright smile spread across her face. The flush of motherhood was evident on her cheeks; she seemed to emanate her own radiant glow. His gaze drifted down to her hands cradling the large swell of her stomach. He couldn't help but feel proud that it was _his_ child she was bearing, that she was round and heavy with _his_ heir and they would be the ones to change the world together.

He gently set the children back down on their feet. "Why don't you two go play in the other room? I have to talk to Mommy."

The blonde girl with eyes the same color as her mother's tugged on the cuff of his button up. "But we wanna show you our drawings!" The little boy babbled something in gibberish along in agreement.

"Adam, Eve, you heard your father," she snapped in a tone bordering on authoritative but still sweet. She waddled forward a few steps and pulled the children away from him, ushering them into the living room. "We'll come see what you drew in a second."

They scurried away, the pitter patter of their feet against the wooden floors receding along with their peals of laughter. He watched them go, the living products of all his hard work, before turning his attention on her. In a second, he took her into his arms, holding her close to his chest as if he was trying to envelop her in himself. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Hi, sweetie."

She laughed effortlessly, the sound like music to his ears. "You're home early." She pulled away far enough to stare up into his eyes. "Hard day at the office?"

He smiled softly at her. "I just couldn't stand being away from you for that long."

She rolled her eyes playfully at him. "I'm sure."

He tightened his hold on her. Having her in his arms reminded him of the man he once was, in a simpler time before the world was infested with monsters and his morals were gray and his allegiances were screwed.

He could remember the first time he saw her like it was yesterday even if it was many, many years ago, on the fringe of end of the world. They all feared him back then. He would walk down the hall and watch as they cowered at the sound of his heavy boots hitting the floor. They would scramble to the corners of their cells and stare at him with big, weary eyes as he passed by.

The dull sound of hands smacking against glass cut through the screams ringing off the walls. “Hey, asshole!”

He stopped in his tracks and swiveled his head to the left, meeting her eyes for the first time. They were wild and ferocious, alight with a brilliant fire. It was only ignited more once she saw she had gotten his attention.

“Let me out of here!” She banged her fists on the glass, her lips curled back to bare her teeth.

He approached her and stopped until all that was separating them was the glass window between them. She was unlike any of the other test subjects right off the bat. No one dared to speak to him like that; when they did speak to him, they mostly begged for mercy. But she was fierce. He knew she was special long before she was ever injected with the T-virus.

They stared each other directly in the eye. Her chest heaved up and down rapidly, her ragged breaths fogging the glass. He cocked his head to the side, his lips spreading into a menacing grin. He wanted to crush her like the little bird she was, to tame her, to break her will.

“The second I get out of here,” she hissed in a low voice, “I’m going to kill you.”

And she had no idea how right she would be.

Without a word, he turned and continued his walk down the hall, the slap of his boots against the floor retreating.

“Hey!” she called after him. “Hey, get back here! I wasn’t done with you!” Her words devolved into desperate screams that merged with the cacophony of shrieks echoing behind him.

Many didn’t understand why he chose this method, why he went through all the effort to deceive her and keep her complacent and docile when it would be so much easier to just lock her in a cage. But she was his prize, his own little slice of a time long since gone in a corner of the world. He would do anything to hide her away, to keep her all to himself.

She stepped away from him, snapping him back to the present, and the corners of her lips tilted into a small frown. He mirrored her expression. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I...” She sighed, raking her hands through her hair. “I had a nightmare last night, but it felt so vivid, so real.”

His frown deepened.

So, she was having nightmares again. It was only a matter of time before she would go investigating again, and when she did, he would have to wipe her memory again and start back at square one. But he intended to make the time they had until then last for as long as possible.

He pushed her hair out of her face and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry, little bird. It was just a nightmare.” He pulled her back into his arms. “They can’t hurt you anymore. I’m right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this conclusion to the story! Thank you so much for all the love you have shown this work. You've really made it into something I can be proud of.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Replay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25488442) by [governmenthooker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/governmenthooker/pseuds/governmenthooker)




End file.
